Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Somebody's Hero

My name is Martha and I am a Super Hero.

My sisters are already aware of this. I am Super Marfa. It’s a long-running joke, I know, but today I finally realized that I really am somebody’s hero.

I am my daughter’s hero.

Faster than a speeding bullet, I make it to her side to rescue her from a tumble that could result in a boo-boo. On the rare occasions when I don’t catch her—usually due to a Kryptonite-infested toy that trips me up on my path to her—I utilize my magical powers to heal her. I possess an instant, pain-relieving serum that courses from me through my lips in the form of obnoxious kisses that smother away the pain of the ouchie.

With a wave of my silver wand and a sprinkling of green fairy dust—okay, it’s a needle and thread—I can repair the head wound (it’s really a chewed-open hole) on her favorite stuffed turtle, affectionately named, you guessed it, Mr. Turtle.

I can quickly and painlessly dispense drops into my Little Pumpkin’s eyes to rid her of a nasty case of conjunctivitis.

With a flick of my fingers (and my handy-dandy crock pot), I turn out fantastic, healthy meals.

My Super Hero training enables me to sing like Elmo, bounce like Tigger, and patiently read “Let’s Go to Church,” “Are You My Mother,” and “Name that Shape” eleventeen million times—all without a moment’s hesitation or a whisper of complaint.

I do all this and more. And yet, I know there are many Super Heroes like me in this world.

I am a hero. I am a mommy.

2 comments:

Margaret said...

Super Marfa and sisters,

Due to the sweetness of this post (and the depressing-ish nature of the post I've been trying to write for today), I am postponing the Wednesday word.

It's important to remember that no matter how tough things get, we're all women extraordinaire.

Love to you all,
M1

Martha said...

We are far beyond "women extraordinaire." We are the super-fly, butt-kicking MacStewarts!